


Country Roads, Take Me Home

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Appalachia, Dean Winchester - Freeform, F/M, Homesick, Reader Insert, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Trans Allegheny Lunatic Asylum, Vengeful Spirits, insane asylum, sam winchester x reader - Freeform, sam x reader - Freeform, spn fanfic, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 23:03:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie
Summary: The reader misses home and decides to take a trip to not only relieve her homesickness, but to also to face her past. The trip home ends up making things way more complicated than she had anticipated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Although I’ve not had to move too far away from my home state, I tend to feel drawn to our more mountainous areas, and I wanted to share that love with all of you. Also, I think most people can relate to missing home, or whatever you consider as home.

_Country roads, take me home_  
_To the place I belong_  
_West Virginia, mountain momma_  
_Take me home, country roads_  


There’s a saying back home, “You can take the girl out of the mountains, but you can’t take the mountains out of the girl.”  Truer words have never been spoken, and as I’m standing on the roof of the bunker and looking out over the mostly flat landscape of Lebanon, my heart aches for the rolling hills and deep hollers of West Virginia. I’ve been gone for years, and it’s usually something I can ignore, but this time of year it is especially hard.

One of my favorite parts of growing up in Appalachia, surrounded by mountains, was when September hit. Depending on where you lived the time frame differed, but between September and October the leaves would change and the mountains were painted with bright yellows and burnt oranges and deep crimsons. You could start in the northern part of the state and move south and you’d never see the same patterns twice. One day everything would be green, and the next you’d start seeing the different colors begin to leak through. West Virginia is a painter’s dream. I wish I could describe exactly how it felt to overlook the New River Gorge during peak leaf changing time, but it was breathtaking. Between the white water rapids flowing quickly beneath the bridge, that at one time was the world’s longest single-span arch bridge, and the mountains surrounding the area, it was breathtaking even during the summer months. But fall…it was transformed into a dream. 

But I wasn’t in West Virginia anymore. I hadn’t been home for a long time. I never really said that I would never go back; I still spoke to a couple of friends that had remained there, but the opportunity never really showed itself. If I was being honest with myself, I was purposely avoiding it. Since Sam and Dean had found me half dead and alone in the home I’d grown up in, I’d stayed with them. I didn’t have much to go back to, and I’m not exactly the best at confronting my problems head on. But then fall rolls around and my heart yearns for dirt roads and trees the color of flames, and cool, crystal clear streams flowing over smooth, mossy stones.

I took a sip of coffee and savored the bitter liquid as it rolled across my taste buds and spread warmth through me. I have never liked coffee, but after living with Sam for awhile I found that 5 a.m. came early, and if I ever hoped to survive such torture I was going to need the caffeine.

“Y/N?” Sam’s low voice startled me from my thoughts, and I glanced over at him standing in the doorway to the roof.

“Hey, Sam.”

He slowly walked over to join me, “Why are you up here so early?”

I shrugged and looked back towards the sunrise that was painting the landscape in beautiful reds and oranges, “Couldn’t sleep. Might as well get my day started, we’ve got a lot of researching to do.”

I could feel him staring at me as he waited for the real answer, but when it didn’t come I saw him lean his elbows against the high wall of the roof and sigh. “You know you can talk to me, right? You don’t always have to be so….stoic.”

I laughed quietly, “Stoic? I’m not Dean. I just…you guys have enough to worry about, and there’s nothing wrong. Really.”

Sam looked over at me, his hazel eyes dark. It was hard not to just spill out all my feelings and secrets when he looked at me like that. “You need to learn how to lie better, Y/N. Because from where I’m standing, that’s a shitty reason and you know it.”

I sighed. As much as I tried to hide myself from both Winchesters, I had obviously failed. They were too smart for that and well versed in denial and hidden feelings. They could write a book on the subject. I took another sip of coffee, then sat the mug on the wall and wrapped my arms around myself. “I miss home.”

Sam straightened and turned to face me, “Home? I’ve not heard you mention it since we brought you here… Do you miss it that much?”

“I don’t know, Sam. Yes and no.” I sat down on one of the lawn chairs I had dragged up to the roof a long time ago and leaned my head in my hand, “I don’t miss everything, you know? I’ve got a couple of friends that I still talk to back east…I don’t really miss home so much. I miss the mountains, I miss how they look like they’re on fire when the leaves change, I miss walking barefoot in rivers and creeks. I miss having bonfires whose sole purpose isn’t to burn the people we love. I miss things not being so…flat.”

I looked up at the sky as I forced back tears. I’m not sure why talking about it was making it worse, but it suddenly felt like my chest was about to burst. All I truly wanted was to walk the boardwalk through Cranberry Glades or carefully navigate the wooden walkways through Beartown. “I’m sorry…it’s not usually this bad. It’s just this time of year…fall was my favorite thing when I was home.” I laughed, “Haunted houses, especially. How ironic, right?”

Sam smiled and gently put a hand on my knee, “You could have just told us, Y/N. I mean, I doubt we would have done much about the haunted houses, but we could have taken you home.” He paused, his eyebrows furrowed, and took a deep breath, “Do you….do you want to leave? We never really asked you. You know you can go whenever, right?”

I put my hand over his and gave it a soft squeeze, “Sam, I wouldn’t trade living here with you guys for anything in this world. I just think…maybe it’s time I go back for a visit. I’ve avoided it for a long time and I think my heart knows it’s time.” I stood up and pulled Sam with me, “You know, it’s weird…I’ve heard people say that they can feel the sea calling, that it’s just something they feel in their bones, like an ache or an itch that can’t be scratched. I always thought it was kind of silly, but I think I get what they mean.”

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at me carefully, “When are you leaving?”

“I think I should probably go soon. It’s a long way home. If I leave today, then I can take my time once I’m there.” Sam looked down at his shoes and my heart ached for a different reason. “I’ll come back, Sam. How would you and Dean make it without me, anyway? He irons with beer instead of water, for God’s sake.”

Sam laughed, “Yea…we’re kind of a mess when we’re left alone. We’ll miss you, you know.”

I smiled, “I know. I’ll miss you too. Now come on, I’ll fix us some breakfast before I pack up and head out. Sound good?” He nodded and led the way from the roof, and I realized just how much I was going to miss them both…especially Sam.

* * *

I stood and looked around my room, searching for anything that I may have missed that I would have needed. After making sure that I had packed all the essentials, I grabbed my bag and wandered down the hall and into the library. It was empty and eerily silent, especially since that was usually where I found Sam. I sat my bag down on the table and walked up the steps and into the war room; no Sam or Dean. I made my way into the kitchen, “Sam? Dean?” The dishes from breakfast had already been washed and were sitting in the drying rack, the towel neatly folded next to them, but the room was empty. Where the hell were they?

I went back to the library and grabbed my bag, then slowly made my way to the garage. When I’d arrived at the bunker, I had wandered into the garage one day while I was exploring and found an old motorcycle that had clearly been well taken care of and then abandoned when the Men of Letters were no more. I had never ridden a motorcycle before, had no idea how they worked or how to fix them, but I’d immediately been drawn to it. I hadn’t had much to say to Sam and Dean back then; I hadn’t had much to say to anyone. So instead of talking to the people who had rescued me or making myself useful, I had gone online and ordered a book about motorcycles and how to repair them. I had spent the next two months reading and going through diagrams and fixing things as they came up. Once it was up and running again, I had taken it out and taught myself to ride.

I lost count of how many times I came home bloody and bruised, but Sam and Dean never said a word. On occasion, one of them would have to patch me up if I couldn’t reach it, but that was the extent of it. For months I didn’t speak to them; it was just me and my motorcycle. Eventually, I began to open up. We started to have conversations, and I started to tag along on hunts. Rather than always riding my motorcycle, I joined them in the Impala. I still loved that motorcycle, though, and would sometimes take off on my own. Which was why, when I realized that I had to leave, I decided to take the motorcycle. I immediately made a beeline for it when I hit the entrance to the garage and jumped when I heard a voice behind me.

“Just going to leave without saying anything?”

I turned around and glared at Dean, who was leaning against Baby, “That wasn’t my plan, but you and your brother just disappeared. Afraid I was going to steal the Impala?”

Dean laughed, “Nah, nothing like that.” He pushed himself away from the car and walked over to where I stood, my bag balanced precariously on the bike. “Really going, huh?” I nodded but didn’t say anything. “I get it, you know. Back when we were looking for Dad and Sam was having his visions…he said we had to go home. Difference was, I didn’t want to. It didn’t stop that feeling of needing to go, though. I hadn’t spent a lot of time there either, so it’s not like I felt like I was missing anything…mine was more of a ‘confront my demons’ kind of thing. Literally.” He crossed his arms as he stared at me, “You don’t have to go alone, you know. It’s not like anything is happening around here.”

I shook my head, “Dean, I couldn’t ask you guys to do that. It’s a long trip, and you’d be bored out of your mind. What if something came up?”

He shrugged, “We aren’t the only hunters. The best, yes. The only ones, no.” He grabbed my bag and began walking back towards the Impala, “Sammy and I already discussed it, so it wasn’t a question. More of a statement, really. Now come on. You said it, we’ve got a hell of a drive.”

I watched him throw my bag into the back seat and walk around to the driver’s side just as Sam ran up the steps to the garage. He looked at me and smiled, “I brought snacks, and I found this awesome podcast-”

I heard Dean groan from the car, “Come on! And also, no podcasts. Driver picks the music, remember? I’m not listening to some boring dude talk about the ancient Greeks and how they were responsible for how we raise crops in present day, or some shit.”

Sam looked at me and rolled his eyes, then tossed his bag in the trunk, slammed it shut, and climbed into the front seat where he immediately began to explain to Dean why his podcast choices were so important.

Although I couldn’t help but smile and thank whatever fate brought me these two selfless men, I knew that the next couple of days were probably going to be the longest of my life. Thank goodness for headphones.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader makes it home, and finally confronts the memory of how she ended up with the Winchesters.

The drive east was a fairly easy one. Along the way, we took care of a couple simple salt n’ burns, but otherwise it was uneventful. The closer we got to home, the more anxious I became. It had been years since I’d been there, and as the roads became more familiar and the empty fields and steep mountains turned into old buildings and narrow streets, I felt an ache in my chest that I hadn’t felt for a long time.

Dean pulled up in front of my old house and turned the engine off. Sam turned around to look at me, and I gave him a weak smile. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, “Yea. I’m good.” I climbed out of the Impala and walked over to the sidewalk, stopping at the edge where the grass met the concrete. It was clear no one had lived in the house since Sam had carried me out years ago. I couldn’t blame anyone for that; what happened in that house had put a darkness in it.

I stared at the dingy siding and the vines that had begun to overtake the front porch, the grass that was too long and was probably only cut when someone felt the need to tame it, and the tire swing that still hung from a mildewy rope that looked like it would snap if anyone dared to sit on it. I heard both Impala doors slam shut, but then it fell silent; they were waiting to see what I would do. I took a deep breath and walked down the cracked sidewalk. Time to quit putting it off.

Surprisingly, the welcome mat was still there, and I flipped it up with my foot. The spare key was exactly where my mom had stashed it years ago in case I ever needed it. I picked it up and twirled the silver metal between my fingers, surprised that it had remained untouched and looked as new as it did. I slowly slipped it into the lock, the sound of the tumblers falling into place almost deafening, then gently pushed the door open. 

Everything was in the same exact place as it had been when I left. Someone had come in and covered the furniture, but otherwise it looked untouched. I walked down the hall, the pictures on the wall dusty and faded, and purposely avoided looking at them. They were memories of a life that had been ripped away from me; ghosts of a past that I had done my best to forget. I could almost feel the eyes of my family as they watched me pass from their glass prisons, judging me for living when they had been torn apart.

“Get it together, Y/N,” I muttered to myself. I stopped in the kitchen doorway, and my eyes landed on the faded, dark red stain, one of the few reminders that remained of what had happened that day. I walked into the kitchen and paused at the edge of the stain, then I dropped to my knees and ran my hand over the discolored linoleum. 

* * *

_“Mom, I’m home! Mom?”_

_Nothing._

_The house is silent, the absence of my mom’s cheerful voice odd this time of day. “Elliot? Is anyone here?”  My little brother should be home. There’s a sound in the kitchen, a clatter, and then silence. “Elliot? Do you know where Mom is?”_

_I drop my bag in the living room, then walk down the hall and towards the kitchen. “Elliot, seriously, why are you being weird-” I immediately stop, my eyes taking in the horror in front of me. My mom, my sweet mother who has been the center of my world since I can remember, is laying in the floor. Elliot is kneeling on the floor next to her, his mouth latched to her arm as a crimson puddle spreads out underneath her and stains his light colored blue jeans._

_“Elliot? What….what are you doing?” He turns to face me, and although I can tell it’s Elliot, it isn’t. His skin is pale and oddly wrinkled, and his eyes are an ugly, bloody red._

_“Y/N…” He releases my mother’s arm and stands to face me._

_“What the hell, Elliot? What…what have you done?” I’ve never been in shock, but I would assume it would feel something like this. “What’s wrong with your face?” I look back my mom, her beautiful blue eyes wide open and full of fear even in death, and I know I should do something, but I just stand there._

_“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…I’m just so hungry. I was so, so hungry and nothing was helping, not even the others, and then Mom came home…” I look back at him, but I can’t tell if he’s truly sorry._

_“Hungry…what does that have to do….what did you do, what others?” I repeat myself, still trying to wrap my brain around what I’m looking at. “She loved you, Elliot. She’s taken care of you since before you can remember, she loved you when your own mother…what have you done?” Elliot takes a step toward me and I move away,  “No…no, you can’t…don’t touch me.”_

_“Y/N, please, you can help me. I’m still so hungry, you can’t leave.” I look down and see that he has a knife in his hand, and I feel a scream building up inside me. My little brother, the boy my mom had brought into our home when his own mother refused to take care of him, the boy I loved with every fiber of my being, was going to kill me._

_“Elliot,” I sob, unable to hold back the tears anymore, “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but you don’t have to! I’ll find a way to fix this, just put the knife down, okay buddy? Just put it down, you don’t know what you’re doing.”_

_He shook his head, and the look he gives me is filled with sadness, “I don’t want to do this, but I have to. I have to, Y/N.”_

_He rushes at me and I fall, my head cracking against the linoleum. Everything blurs, overtaken by what I always thought were hypothetical stars but it suddenly occurs to me that the movies weren’t lying; all I could see were bright spots, like stars flickering in and out of existence. I can see enough that I notice Elliot’s form looming over me, and a throw an arm up to block him. All I can feel is pain; pain in my head from the fall, pain in my arm where Elliot had cut me with the knife. I scoot backwards, trying to get out from under him, and slip in the blood that is now covering way more area than I would have thought possible. My mother’s blood. If I wasn’t trying to save my life I would probably be getting sick. Elliot’s fist comes down and smashes me in the jaw._

_“Elliot, please-”_

_“I have to, Y/N! You don’t understand.” He has his hand fisted in the neck of my shirt, and I see his other arm come up. He brings the knife down again, but I’m ready this time and shove as hard as I can with my legs. I manage to push myself out of the direct line of the knife, but he still manages to cut a shallow stripe across my throat. I panic as I begin to feel the warmth spreading down my neck. When did my little brother get so strong? He’s angry, I can see it, and I try to stand so that I can run away but my feet keep slipping in the blood. At this point, I can’t tell what’s mine and what’s my mother’s._

_He grabs me by the hair and drags me up out of the floor, “Stop fighting! You know I love you, sis, but if you love me as much as you say you do, you’d let me do this. I can make it quick! You’ll never feel what’s coming next, just hold still.” I’m tired, and the pain from him holding me up by my hair is causing the edges of my vision to darken._

_Maybe he was right; if I just let it happen, it would be over and I wouldn’t feel anything anymore. The knife glints in the sunlight coming through the window and I barely feel it as it enters my chest. I guess it’s harder to pierce through bone than Elliot thought because he drops me, the knife still protruding from my chest, and shakes his hand out as if the shock of it surprises him. I can’t really feel anything though, so either he actually did hit something vital or I really am in shock. Either way, I assume this can’t end well for me._

_I hear the front door open. “Elliot? Y/N? Where is everyone?” Alex…why was Alex home? He didn’t live here anymore, he should be at work. I try to answer, but all I can manage is a soft squeak. Elliot looks at me and smiles, “Stay put. Today’s dinner just got bigger.” I can feel the tears rolling down my face as I quietly sob._

_“Alex…” I croak, but it’s not loud enough. Alex is bigger than Elliot, older and stronger, so he should be fine, maybe even be able to call for help before I inevitably bleed out._

_“Elliot, what….no, stop Elliot! What the hell are you doing?” I hear a thud, then another, then the sound of an end table crashing, the glass lamp shattering as it hits the floor. “Stop! Why are you-” a strangled gurgle cuts off whatever Alex was about to say and then silence. Elliot is gone for what seems like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes. When he finally returns, he’s covered in even more blood, and his mouth is dripping red. He smiles, and it’s a horror show._

_“Little brother is stronger now, too bad Alex didn’t realize that.” Elliot kneels down next to me and pokes at the knife in my chest. Pain runs through me like fire, but I don’t have the strength to do anything other than stare at the monster that used to be one of my favorite people on this earth._

_“I really am sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for all this to happen, but it looks like me turning into this….thing….was inevitable. Maybe that’s why my mom didn’t want me, she knew I was a monster.” He drags a long nail across my collarbone, and the faint sting barely registers. I know I’ve lost a lot of blood, I just don’t know if it’s enough to kill me. If no one comes, it won’t matter anyway. He’s watching the blood roll down my chest and wick slowly into my shirt as if he’s fascinated by the process._

_“Elliot…I don’t understand.”_

_He shook his head, “I don’t either. I’m just doing what feels right. I can’t explain it, Y/N…and I wish it could have been someone else. You just had to come home.”_

_I hear the front door slam open, “Jesus, Sammy, it looks like a damn slaughterhouse in here. I guess we’re in the right place.”_

_“Yea…I was really hoping we’d make it in time to help him…”_

_“Well, we didn’t. You go that way, I’ll take the back.” The two sets of footprints go in two different directions and I can hear one pair coming towards the kitchen._

_“Don’t come in here, please, it’s dangerous!” I feel like I’m yelling, but I’m aware that the voice in my head is much louder than what’s actually coming out. The steps stop just short of the kitchen and I close my eyes. I can’t watch what’s about to happen. Elliot hides just out of sight, and I hear the footsteps start again and the sound of heavy boots reverberate through the kitchen. To me, the sound is almost deafening. Shock does weird things to you._

_“Holy shit…” I hear the person mumble as he takes in the scene. I’m sure it looks like a blood bath, and I can’t even imagine what I must look like right now. Probably dead._

_Before I can open my eyes, I hear the man grunt and then the sound of a body hitting the wall. “Dean! Could use some help!” I open my eyes enough to see a tall man with shaggy, chestnut hair punch Elliot in the face, hard. Elliot runs at him and gets him at the waist, throwing the tall man off balance and into the fridge. Magnets rattle and fall off around them, and the taller man ducks just as Elliot goes for his neck. He somehow manages to open the freezer door and slams it into Elliot’s head, crashing it into the wall next to the fridge. He pulls it back and tries to do it again, but Elliot sees it coming and whirls around, grabbing the taller man by the collar and throwing him across the room._

_The tall man hits the floor with a bone rattling thud but manages to stand in the same swift motion, his chest heaving and his long hair disheveled and in his face. He flips it out of his eyes with a quick flick of his head, and his eyes fall on me for a moment. It feels like I’m smiling, which is odd considering the circumstances… but those eyes. His eyebrows furrow, but then he’s distracted as Elliot charges at him again. I close my eyes, too tired to watch anymore. I can hear the stomping of feet, glass shattering as they throw each other around, the sound of a chair breaking as someone gets hit with it._

_“Dean!”_

_“I’m comin’, I’m comin’, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Another set of feet enters the kitchen, “I’ve got him, go check on her. Sammy, I said check on her.” I hear footsteps hurry towards me, then the warmth of a large hand on my cheek._

_“Hey, hey, can you open your eyes for me?” I take a shallow breath, then slowly open my eyes. The first things I see are the most beautiful hazel eyes I have ever seen. He smiles at me gently, and I’m shocked that the man I just saw pummel what was my brother could be so gentle._

_“Hi,” I manage to croak out._

_“Hey. My name is Sam.” His eyes move from my face to where the knife is still sticking out from my chest, and I can’t help but mourn the fact that I didn’t meet him in a normal place. Like a coffee shop, with no knife sticking out of me, and where my little brother is not eating my mom._

_He looks closely at the blade, worry wrinkles between his eyebrows as he checks how deep it is, then sighs. I feel like that is not a great sign, but what do I know? I’ve never been stabbed, and for some reason I feel like this man has too much experience with that kind of thing. “So, I have good news and bad news….” he raises an eyebrow questioningly._

_“Y/N…my name is Y/N.”_

_He nods, “So the good news, Y/N, is that the knife really isn’t that deep. It hit bone, so I’m pretty sure it didn’t hit anything vital. The bad news is, it’s at an angle so it’s gonna be hard to pull out. It’s…it’s gonna hurt pretty bad. Do you have any towels in here?”_

_“Second drawer from the left.” Sam nods, quickly goes to the drawer, then comes back._

_“I’m going to pull this knife out, and I need you to hold this towel to your chest, okay? It’s going to be hard, but you can do it.” He moves my hand closer to where the knife is. “Are you ready, Y/N?” I somehow manage to nod weakly and he smiles at me again, “Okay, here we go. I’m sorry, Y/N, but it’ll be over soon. On the count of three. One…two…”_

_The worst pain I have ever felt in my life burst through me like a bomb, and I was surprised that anything could hurt worse than the actual act of being stabbed. I can feel Sam quickly covering the wound with the towel, and I move my hand to hold it in place like he had told me to. “Good, exactly like that, Y/N.” At some point I closed my eyes, so I open them again. There’s Sam, looking at me with…is that awe? Maybe it’s surprise. Either way, it’s beautiful and if I could have him look at me like that forever, I think I would allow it._

_“Well, there’s one less rugaru on this plane of existence. Winchesters: 3 Rugarus: 0.”_

_I look towards the source of the voice and see a man slightly shorter than Sam wearing a leather jacket and wiping a knife off with an old shop rag he’d pulled from his back pocket. I tilt my head back to look towards Elliot, “El….Elliot?”_

_Sam throws a glare at Dean, “Dude.” He motions towards me, and Dean frowns._

_“Oh…oh, I’m…sorry.” He shrugs at Sam, his eyes wide._

_Sam sighs, then looks back to me, “We’re going to get you out of here and take you some place safe. Is there anyone else here? Anyone we need to call?”_

_I close my eyes and shake my head, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. Everyone is gone. I was the only one left._

_“It’s okay, we’ve got you. Keep holding that towel, I’m going to pick you up, okay?” Before I can answer, I feel two large arms engulf me, one around my back and one under my knees, then slowly lift me from the floor. The last thing I see before everything fades to black are blue-green eyes with just a touch of yellow around the pupil.  
_

* * *

“Y/N?” I jumped, the deep voice startling me, and I stood quickly as I wiped a tear from my cheek. “Are you okay?” Sam stood in the doorway, but kept his distance.

I shrugged, “Yea, I’m fine. Just…um…remembering.” My hand moved to the prominent scar currently hidden by my flannel, “I kind of forgot the details.” I sighed, “Elliot didn’t know any better. None of us knew…he was adopted, you know? His dad had disappeared and his mom…his mom couldn’t deal with it.”

I walked past Sam and into the living room where I picked up a photo of my mom that was still sitting on the coffee table, “My mom was an amazing woman. Even after my dad died, she had the biggest heart. It didn’t matter that Elliot wasn’t actually hers, she loved him just as much as she loved me and Alex. We all loved him.” I sat the frame back down, “I guess his dad didn’t really disappear, did he?”

Sam shook his head, “Probably not. He wouldn’t have been able to control himself if he’d tasted human flesh…I’m guessing a hunter took him out. I’ve looked, checked around to see if anyone would have had record of it, but there’s nothing. He’s just gone…” Sam took a step towards me, “You couldn’t have helped him, you know? You didn’t know anything about it. I was hoping we could…if we got here in time, we could have taught him how to control it. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Sam. You can’t save everyone.” I smiled sadly at him, “I thought that if I came back here, something would feel…different. Like I’d suddenly feel this peace come over me, like I was shutting a door on something. All I feel are ghosts of memories I can barely hold on to. This isn’t home…it’s a tomb.”

I looked around the room one last time, then put my hand on the doorknob, “Let’s go. There’s nothing left for me here.”

I walked away from my childhood home for the last time and towards the shiny black car and men that were my home now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader shows Sam and Dean her old stomping grounds, but somewhere along the way, appears to have upset Sam. She receives a call from an old friend, and a case falls in their laps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: For those from the area I'm describing or at least familiar with it, the timing from Beartown to Weston is wrong; it's closer to four hours than two and a half. Although, with Dean driving...maybe I'm more accurate. lol

“Say again exactly where we’re going?”

I looked up from the book I was reading and pulled an earbud out, “What?”

I saw Dean roll his eyes in the rear-view mirror, “I said, what is the place called that we are currently driving towards?”

My eyes went back to my book, and I flipped the page, “Oh. It’s called Bear Town. Bear Town State Park.”

“Bear Town? Am I to assume that this place is full of bears? Why are we going there, anyway?” Dean grumbled.

I sighed and shut my book as it became obvious that my quiet time was over, “We are going there because it’s beautiful, especially this time of year. You guys haven’t spent much time in the mountains, have you?” When neither of them answered I continued, “The leaves are changing this time of year, and they are especially pretty in the mountains. There hasn’t been a bear sighting in ages. I’ve been a few times and have never seen one. Is Dean Winchester afraid of bears?”

He grunted, “No, I’m not, but I’m also not a fan of getting my face ripped off. What else is there?”

I shrugged, “It’s just a bunch of wooden walkways and big rocks and a lot of moss. I don’t really know how to describe it. Anyway, Sam will appreciate this one. It’s on the eastern summit of Droop Mountain.”

“What the hell is Droop Mountain?”

I could see Sam perk up in the front seat, “So get this…” I smiled to myself, put my headphones back in, and ignored the obvious glare Dean was shooting at me in the rearview mirror. 

* * *

I pulled my jacket closer to me as I walked along the slippery wooden walkway that led between the tall rock faces and large boulders. My eyes roamed across the moss covered trees that leaned haphazardly against each other, their falling leaves creating a brilliant carpet of reds, yellows, and oranges at the base of their trunks. I walked between two towering cliffs, taking in all the nooks and crevices that had formed over the years, and stopped at the platform on the other side. I leaned against the railing and looked out over the forest. It was quiet save for the soft drips of condensation as the water rolled from the leaves and pattered against the age worn platforms and stone. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, savoring the cool air and silence. I heard soft footsteps come up behind me, and I opened my eyes. I knew without turning who it was.

“Hey, Sam.”

He leaned against the railing next to me, a small smile playing across his lips. “How’d you know it was me?”

I shrugged, “You weren’t loudly complaining about how wet everything was.”

Sam chuckled, “To be fair to Dean, these walkways are pretty slick.”

I grinned, “He did kind of look like a baby deer trying to walk for the first time.”

“I heard that! Assholes.” His voice echoed loudly in the otherwise empty woods.

I laughed, “Poor Dean, can’t catch a break can he?” I looked out into the trees with the slight hope I’d actually see a bear. It was something I did every time I came here, even though I knew that the chances were to slim to none. I could feel Sam staring at me, “What?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded, “Yea…I mean, as much as I can be, I guess. It was a long time ago, Sam.” I turned around and leaned back against the railing so that we were facing each other. “Nothing anyone could have done would have changed the outcome. I’m not even sure you getting there faster would have mattered, not in the end. I’ve known that for a long time, but seeing the house again and how empty it felt…I’m okay. It helps just being here, you know? These are the places I used to run to when I just needed some time to myself. It’s nice to share it with my new family.” Sam’s hazel eyes stared into mine, and I found myself trying to figure out exactly what color they actually were.

“New family?” Sam asked as he leaned in a little closer, and his hand covered mine on the railing. I swallowed thickly and nodded, but didn’t speak in fear that my voice would betray me. Since the day that we met, I had always been drawn to Sam. It was in the way he could turn from the gentlest person to the most dangerous hunter at a moment’s notice, how kind he was, how he always saw the good in people despite all the bad he’d seen. I knew that he felt like he had to make up for what was inside of him, but I also knew that despite the darkness in his veins, the light in him shone much brighter.

“Of course…you two are my life. You’re the reason I’m even here.” Sam moved back and stuck both hands into his pockets, and I looked at him, confused, “What?”

“Nothin’, I just…I think Dean’s coming.”

Dean rounded the corner, cursing under his breath as he gripped the railing tightly. He glared at me, “It hasn’t even rained! This is ridiculous. Are we about finished here?”

I nodded, “Yea, the end of the trail is just up there…that is, if you think you can make it, Bambi.”

He let go of the railing long enough to flip me off and I laughed, but I couldn’t help but notice that Sam remained quiet. I thought about asking him what was wrong, then realized it would be pointless, especially now that Dean had caught up. I made my way towards the end of the trail just as my cell phone went off. I jumped; it was odd enough to get a phone call, but Bear Town was not exactly known for its excellent cell reception.

“Hello?”  

_“Y/N?”_

“Yea, who….Beth? Is that you?”

_“Yea! How’s it going?”_

Dean threw his hands up and glared at me, and I waved him off, “I’m doing okay. How are you?”

_“Weird, to say the least. Honestly…not great. We’ve got a bit of a problem.”_

I sighed, knowing what she was going to say before she even said it, “You know I love that place more than anything else in this world, but I told you when you said you were getting a job there it was a bad plan. We discussed it at length.”

_“Yea, well I didn’t listen and now here we are. You need to come home and help us out. I can’t really talk about it over the phone.”_

“Well, the good news for you is that I am home, so your timing couldn’t be better. Can you at least give me something to go off of?” She was silent for a moment. “Beth!”

She sighed, _“We’ve had a couple of people…die. One was found hanging from a pipe, and the other one…the other one had the leg of a bed rammed through their temple.”_

I ran a hand across my face, “That’s not great, Beth. I…ugh. Okay, well I’m about two and a half hours out, and I’m going to try to find a library. Hold tight, okay?”

_“Thanks, Y/N. I owe you.”_

“Psht, you already owe me. See you soon.” I jammed the phone back into my pocket, “I need to get to a library.”

“What was that all about?” Dean asked as we continued down the boardwalk.

“That was my friend Beth. She works at an abandoned insane asylum and they’re having some…issues.”

“What kind of issues? How do you work at a place that’s abandoned?”

I climbed the last flight of steps and into the parking lot, “They give tours, they do haunted houses. Actually, they’re probably getting ready for their haunted house right now, but they also have overnight tours. Ghost hunts.”

“This is exactly how people get killed, what kind of idiots want to pay to actually go-”

I whipped around and glared at Dean, “First of all, it’s not just about the ghosts, okay? There’s a lot more to it than that, and I would appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself. Second, it doesn’t matter if it’s smart or not. No one deserves to die just because they’re interested in something.” I flung the back door open and climbed into the back seat, “I texted you the address. It’s not hard to find.”

I slammed the door shut and looked silently out the window. I saw Dean pause as he rounded the driver’s side, as if he was thinking of something to say once he got in the car, but he quietly climbed into the driver’s seat and the comforting roar of the engine filled the silence. I glanced towards Sam and caught him staring at me, but as soon as our eyes met, he turned to face the front again.

I sighed. So much for a relaxing trip home.

* * *

“Alright, boys, sit down and get ready to learn some shit about one of my favorite places in this world.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, his arms crossed, “Why in the hell would a haunted insane asylum be your favorite place? What were you like before we met you?”

I glared back at him, “Sit your ass down and maybe you’ll find out.” I heard Sam choke back a laugh as Dean pulled back the chair and sat down grumpily. I pulled up a couple of web pages and turned the computer so that Sam and Dean could both see it. “This is where we’re going. Before it closed it was called Weston State Hospital, but the original name was Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum. It was built between 1858 and 1881, and it was only supposed to hold 250 souls originally.”

“Only? I’m assuming that they went over that number,” Sam muttered, and I nodded.

“Just a little. By the time it reached its peak during the 1950’s, the building held 2,400 patients. Of course, it had been added to after the Civil War finally ended, but still.”

“Jesus!” Dean exclaimed, “How did that even happen?”

I shrugged, “That’s just how it was, Dean. Trans-Allegheny was not the only place that was overcrowded, and despite the living conditions, it probably wasn’t even the worst. The man that designed it, Richard Andrews, built it using the Kirkbride plan, which essentially based its building plans on wide, open spaces and lots of light. Kirkbride had the belief that fresh air and sunlight helped with the rehabilitation of both physical and mental issues. It seems like they at least tried, but Kirkbride buildings are huge, they’re hard to take care of, there were too many people, and West Virginia is not exactly known for its overflowing financial assistance.”

“Why is this place your favorite place? It sounds…well, it sounds awful, Y/N,” Dean grumbled.

I rolled my eyes, “Like I said, I have my reasons. Trans-Allegheny was an important institution in Weston for a long time, right? When it closed in 1994, it hit the town hard economically, and it still hasn’t recovered. The thing is, it’s also a historical building. It is the largest hand-cut stone masonry building in North America, and it’s supposedly the second largest in the world. The only one of its kind that is bigger is the Kremlin in Russia. It’s not just about ‘hauntings’, Dean.”

Dean groaned, “Saving historical buildings isn’t in our job description, Y/N.”

“This is one of the most important places in West Virginia, and it’s been a fight for them to keep it open so people can experience the history of it! It’s an ugly history, but definitely something people should know about,” I argued.

“Not to mention the tourism aspect. Weston is still trying to recover, but Trans-Allegheny has been on television, people from all over the place come to see it. It brings people into the town. It might not be a perfect solution, but I can see where it would help,” Sam chimed in as he read over the asylum’s website.

“Which is why we need to help Beth out, because if people keep dying in there, it’s going to get shut down,” I concluded my argument as I cast a thankful look to Sam.

Dean waved a hand in the air, “The ‘people are dying left and right’ part has obviously been lost on you, Y/N. But sure, let’s save the clock tower, Marty McFly.”

I glared at Dean as Sam pulled the computer towards him and began to scroll, “This place is huge, Y/N. How are we supposed to know where to even start? Looking at this, there were several murders. There’s a farm and a cemetery on the property….it’s literally hundreds of acres. The building itself is one of the biggest I’ve seen like this.”

“Well, that’s where my knowledge of this place comes in handy. I have a couple of ideas…although at least one of them is based upon a story that changes constantly. Also…I’m not sure where these people are buried, or if they even were.”

Dean leaned back in his chair, “Well, that sounds great. I’m glad that your knowledge doesn’t even include the two things we need to know.”

“I know more about this place than either one of you. Plus, the stories may not be one hundred percent accurate, but I heard them from someone who actually worked there in the 80s and 90s.”

I took the laptop back from Sam and flipped tabs, “They kept a lot of the non-violent patients in these big rooms, like dormitories, and they each had their own bed. The story goes that two of the patients, who probably should have been in the violent ward but due to overcrowding were in the dorm, began to pick on one of the other patients. When he got too loud, they stopped in fear of him telling on them and moved their attention to another patient who was deaf and didn’t speak. This is where it gets…bad.”

Dean ran a hand across his face, “Because this wasn’t already bad enough. Go on.”

I cleared my throat, “So these two guys tied a bed sheet around the man’s neck and threw it over a pipe that ran across the ceiling. They’d started to hang him, then they’d drop him down, then do it again. They did this for maybe half an hour before they got tired of it, and in fear that he was going to tell on them, drug him over to one of the beds. They then proceeded to put one of the bed legs against his temple, and both men jumped on the bed until it penetrated his skull. And because they thought they could get by with it, they ran down the hall to the nurses’ station, covered in blood, and claimed that a ghost killed their friend.”

“Well, that’s a good contender. Does it say where that guy is buried?”

I shook my head, “No, this story doesn’t really show up anywhere…I got it directly from someone that used to work there when it was still open. I mean, I’m sure it’s been written down somewhere, but nothing concrete. Beth told me that there have been two killings…one by hanging, and the other one involved a bedpost.” I frowned, “So these three guys are most likely the culprits. There was a nurse that disappeared as well and was found two months later dumped under an unused staircase when the building was still a hospital. So…I don’t know. A lot of people died there, so it could be a number of things. We just need to go look and see.”

“Who is this Beth girl, anyway? How do you know her?”

“I grew up with her, she’s one of my best friends.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “And she knows what you do on a regular basis? And she’s fine with that?”

I shrugged, “Yea, she’s known for a long time. We were always into this kind of stuff when we were younger, it didn’t take much to make her believe me. She’s not about the hunting part, but she’s been useful for research. So, now that you’ve got an idea of what’s happening, let’s get moving. It’s a couple of hours from here and I’d like to get there as soon as we can.” I closed the laptop and slipped it into my bag, then pushed away from the table. I could feel Dean staring at me, “What?”

Dean glared at me silently for a moment then stood slowly and pushed his chair in, **“Your inability to say no to a friend is gonna get us killed some day.”**

I rolled my eyes, “Because living with the Winchesters and dealing with literally every demon and angel you work with keeps me safe on the daily. Suck it up, buttercup, and let’s go deal with a regular monster for a change.” Dean stalked off in a huff and I caught Sam’s eye as he stood to leave. “Hey, Sam?”

He stopped and looked at me, and for a moment I almost forgot what I wanted to say. “Yea?”

“Is everything…are we okay?”

He raised an eyebrow, “Yea, sure. Why?”

I shrugged, “You’ve just been quiet since Bear Town. I was afraid I’d said something…”

He shook his head, “Nah, you were pretty clear. We’re good, don’t worry about it.”

“Sam, I-”

“We should go. Dean’s already in a mood, don’t want to make it worse.” He walked off, and I watched as he disappeared through the doors, unsure of what to do or say.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at the asylum, and the reader's friend, Beth, is enthusiastic to meet the famous Winchesters. The boys find out even more about the asylum, and the group splits up to see if they can information that will help get rid of the spirits terrorizing the asylum.

I slowly woke up to the impressive facade of Trans-Allegheny as Dean drove cautiously down the long driveway to the mostly empty parking lot. As odd as it seemed, I felt more at home here than I did at my actual home. I’d always loved Trans-Allegheny. The architecture was beautiful; large, open common spaces, extravagant windows on the entrance so that the light could come through, throwing rainbows across the main hall, and spacious wings that stretched for acres. Although it eventually was horribly overcrowded, the original idea had been that the patients needed that space and light to help heal, instead of just shutting them away. I’d always kind of felt bad for the building, as weird as it sounded. The building itself didn’t deserve the stigma; it was the people that ran it and the practices they kept. 

Dean eased to a stop next to the front door and I slipped out of the back seat, my eyes drifting from the immediately recognizable clock tower over to what used to be the tuberculosis ward. It still amazed me how much land this place took up. I felt the first drops of rain and looked up to the grey clouds swirling ominously over the building.

“Seriously? This is just stereotypical, isn’t it?” Dean complained as he wiped a raindrop from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“What?”

Dean gestured vaguely at the sky, “Dark rain clouds above an already depressing looking building? It screams horror movie material with the most obvious foreshadowing ever.”

I shut my door as Sam walked around to the trunk and began loading up one of the duffels. I couldn’t help but watch the way his flannel stretched tightly across his broad shoulders, and how his arms flexed as he stretched to reach his shotgun. Dean cleared his throat, and I looked at him questioningly. He raised his eyebrows, jerked his chin in Sam’s direction, then threw his hands out and shrugged. I shook my head, embarrassed that I had been caught ogling Sam. Before Dean could make it anymore awkward, I heard the front door open and someone shouting at me.

“Y/N!”

I quickly escaped the potentially embarrassing situation and turned towards the steps leading towards the front door. “Hey, Beth!” I jogged over, and she wrapped me into a rib crushing hug.

“I’ve missed you!” She paused for a moment, then continued in a whisper, “Are those the guys you’ve been telling me about?”

I pulled back and nodded, “Yep. The taller one is Sam, the one with the short hair is Dean.”

Beth looked them both up and down, then nudged me in ribs, “Sam, huh? I can see why you enjoy that one, he’s a tall drink of water, isn’t he?”

I could feel the blush creeping across my cheeks, “Beth, come on-”

“Have you told him? Please tell me you told him-”

“Told who what?” Sam’s deep voice interrupted our hushed conversation, and Beth looked slowly from me to Sam, her smile widening as she held out her hand enthusiastically.

“Told you about the ghosts, of course! Hiya, you must be Sam. I’m Beth!”

Sam cautiously shook her hand and smiled, although his eyes moved over to me as if trying to decide if that’s what we were actually talking about. I shrugged, and Sam appeared to let it go.

Dean sauntered over and Beth’s attention shifted to him, “And you must be Dean. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard a lot.”

Dean grinned, “Hopefully good things.”

Beth smiled back and winked, “Oh, most of it was good. Got anything else to share with me?”

Dean raised his eyebrows and thought for a moment, “I can think of a few things-”

“Alright, let’s keep it in our pants until this is done, huh? Come on, Beth, I wanted to get set up in the office.” I grabbed her arm and drug her up the steps, ignoring the look that passed between Sam and Dean.

As soon as we got inside, my jaw dropped. The first time I had ever been in the building, they were still trying to repair the roof, some of the wings weren’t even accessible to the public because of the asbestos, and the buildings out back were too dangerous to walk through. The owner had clearly put a lot of work into it since then; the walls were painted and the bottom floor was set up much like it would have been when it was open. “Wow,” I whispered as my eyes took in all the changes.

Beth grinned, “Right? They’re working on the third floor right now. I knew you’d love it. We’ve even got the medical building and the morgue open now. Still can’t go through the TB ward, but that’s just because of all the haunted house props. They’ve really done a great job.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Dean asked as he and Sam caught up, taking in my slack jawed appearance.

“Nothing, it just looks a lot different than the last time I was here.” I walked into the office and dropped my bag. “So, the third floor, huh? That could explain it.”

Sam leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, “Why does that explain it?”

I sat down behind the desk and logged into the computer, “Because the third floor is where the two patients murdered their roommate with the bed. It’s also where some of the most violent patients were kept, not to mention the shadow figures by the Nurses’ Station.” I looked up suddenly, and Beth raised an eyebrow. “Beth…is the ballroom on the list?”

She nodded, “Yep, they’re wanting to reopen it to the public again.”

I sighed, then clicked through the several video feeds that were pulled up in front of me, stopping on the ballroom. “There ya go. They’re remodeling, of course it’s disturbing all of them. To my knowledge no one died in there, but that whole floor…it could be almost anyone.”

  
Dean waved his hand, “Wait, wait, wait…. _reopen it to the public?_ There’s a ballroom on the third floor that was open to the public? Are you freaking kidding me?”

“Nope. They held school dances, plays, movies… At one point, it even housed the chapel.  It was the biggest place to have town gatherings, so they used what they had,” I said with a shrug.

Dean looked at me as if shocked, “That’s crazy! They brought townspeople onto the floor with the most violent patients, like nothing bad could come of that?”

Beth shook her head, “Nothing ever happened, at least that we know of. It’s not a big town, Dean, and it was a long time ago. It’s not like they had a fancy community center, we don’t even have that now.”

“Okay, so getting back to the point, how are we supposed to figure out who’s responsible for this? Are any of these people actually buried on the property? Were they even buried? Do you even have any burial records?” Sam asked as he walked around to look at the computer screen while I flipped through different files.

“We have some records, but not all of it is online. We found some filing cabinets in the doctor’s quarters, and I think we have some in the back here.” Beth smiled at Dean, “We could always split up, two of us look here, two of us look in the doctor’s quarters.”

Sam nodded, “Sounds good. Beth, why don’t we take the quarters, and Dean can help Y/N here?”

Beth looked at me sharply and raised her eyebrows, to which I replied with a shrug. “Sure. That’s fine.” I glanced at Dean, who had opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it when he saw the look on my face. I looked back at the computer and tried to pretend that Sam dismissing me didn’t hurt.

“Great. Beth, lead the way?” He motioned for her to go and Beth walked out ahead of him, giving me one last look over her shoulder. Dean let the two of them disappear around the corner before he turned back to me.

“What the hell was that about?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dean put his hands on the edge of the desk and leaned over the computer, “Sam never gives up researching with you, not willingly. You guys have been weird all day, so I’ll ask again: what the hell was that?”

I shifted in my chair, unsure of how to answer him. We had been weird all day, ever since Bear Town, but I had no idea what had caused it. “I honestly don’t know, Dean. We were fine earlier today, we’ve been fine this whole trip, but then all of a sudden he didn’t want to talk to me.”

Dean walked around the desk and sat on the corner of it, his arms crossed across his chest, “All of a sudden? You can’t think of a single thing that may have happened today that would have made him act like that?”

I thought back to what we’d done that day, up until the moment we had been alone in the woods. “We talked a little while we waited on you to catch up, and how I was glad you guys were finally getting to see some of my favorite places.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “That’s it? Other than making fun of me, which, screw you by the way, you didn’t talk about anything else?”

“No, I just mentioned how you guys were my new family and then…oh…” I looked up at Dean with wide eyes, “He might have been holding my hand at the time…and I may have said how _both_ of you were my life. The hand holding didn’t last long after that.”

Dean dropped his head as he ran a hand across his eyes, “You’re clueless, you know that? Both of you are idiots. Okay, well, we don’t have time to worry about this right now, and I don’t have the coping skills to deal with it, so let’s just get this done, get home, and you two can sort your shit out later.” Dean moved towards the back of the office and opened the closet door, “I think I found those files. What do you want, computer or paper?”

“Computer, it’lI go faster. I don’t think there’s a lot on here, and I can come over and help you once I’m done with this.”

“Great.” Dean grabbed a chair and dragged it over to the closet, then yanked open the top drawer. “You owe me, Y/N. This isn’t exactly what I imagined when we decided to go on a road trip.”

I sighed, “Me neither.” 

* * *

Sam strode quickly down the hall and towards the main staircase, and Beth ran to catch up.

“Hey, slow down there, Sasquatch. Your legs are as long as my entire body, and this girl isn’t as in shape as she used to be.”

Sam stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to face Beth, “Oh…sorry.”

Beth shook her head and continued up the stairs past Sam, “So, what’s your deal, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

She laughed as she hit the second floor landing and slid her hand up the worn banister, “So you normally just blow off Y/N like that?”

Sam cleared his throat, “I didn’t blow her off. We needed to split up to speed things up, so…that’s what we did.”

Beth rolled her eyes even though she knew Sam couldn’t see her, “No, see that’s where I think you’re full of shit. No offense, string bean, but I think we both know that there’s something else goin’ on.” They hit the fourth floor landing and she motioned for him to follow her. “Y/N didn’t say anything, of course she won’t because that’s how she is, but if you’re upset with her about something you should mention it to her.”

“I’m not upset about anything-” Beth had stopped in front of a closed door, but turned and put a hand on Sam’s chest.

“Listen, I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night. I can see how you look at her. So do us both a favor, and quit lyin’ to yourself and start thinking about what’s got you so upset.” She pulled a key ring out of her pocket and flipped through the keys, “So, what is it? What’s got you torn up?”

“Nothing. We had a conversation earlier today that didn’t go the way I thought it would. Wasn’t a big deal.”

“Right. Not a big deal, got it.” She slipped the key into the lock and the door creaked open. “So there aren’t any working lights up here, so we’re going to have to use the light from the windows.” She pulled the filing cabinet closer to the window and pulled open the top drawer. “I don’t know the guys’ names that we’re looking for, but look for patient’s records from the third floor, murder, you know the drill.” She began flipping through the folder and Sam knelt down and pulled open the bottom drawer to begin his search.

“You know, it’s funny…I’ve known Y/N my whole life, and I’ve never heard her talk about anyone the way she talks about you two.” Beth paused and Sam hummed in response. “She talks about one of you specifically, but she never says a name. See, she’s pretty private, so even someone she’s known her entire life has to pull that out of her. I get the impression he’s pretty special though.”

Sam paused as he flipped through a manila folder, “Huh.”

Beth pulled out a folder and sat on the edge of the nearby desk, “Whoever it is though…they should be proud of themselves. Even before the whole thing happened with her mom and Alex…she was pretty closed off. She never needed anyone. I think it had something to do with her dad dying. Alex took over a lot but Y/N really kept them all together. She just never…she was really independent, you know?”

Sam nodded and tossed the folder to the floor, then went back to flipping through the drawer, “I’ve noticed.”

Beth laid down her charts and crossed her arms as she watched Sam dig through the records. “What I’m saying is… _whoever_ it is she’s been talking to me about…she needs them. Honest to God, pretty sure she would go to the ends of the earth for this person kind of needs them.” Sam flipped his long hair out of his face and looked up at her, and Beth knew in an instant why Y/N had fallen for this one. “I just hope that the person in question understands how lucky they are to have Y/N, and her trust. That’s all.”

“They know.” He smiled at her gently, then looked back down at the open file still in his hand. “Holy shit…I think I found something.”

Beth clapped, “Well, hallelujah, string bean! Why don’t we get downstairs, see what your handsome devil of a brother has found, and get this damn show on the road?” She winked, but immediately jumped off the desk when a blood curdling shriek echoed through the halls. “What in the ever lovin’ hell was that?”

Sam stood quickly and took off for the door, “It sounded like Y/N.” Beth scrambled after him and the two raced downstairs, terrified of what they might find.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader wakes up in a room she didn't start in, and soon finds out the hard way who it is haunting the asylum. Beth tells Sam to pay closer attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I know quite a bit about the history of Trans-Allegheny, the ghost stories that are being used in this fic are not super detailed. I have never heard names of anyone that was involved, nor have I been able to find them. I’m taking some artistic license with these, so if you are familiar with the stories attached to TALA, please know I’m adding to them/adjusting them to fit this story. The names used are not real names, to my knowledge, and are just from my imagination, along with the story that Sam tells Dean and Beth.

Being a hunter, especially one that lives with the Winchesters, has taught me a lot of things; I’ve learned how to shoot, fight, read Latin. I can recite an exorcism forwards and backwards from memory, I can take apart and reassemble a pistol without looking, and I’ve even gotten pretty good at working on cars. Despite all that, and often having to defend myself against whatever creature has got it in for Sam and Dean and everyone they love, I have never gotten used to the moment I wake up in a place that I did not start off in.

I sat up slowly, and it took me a minute to realize where I was. The moment I figured it out, however, the panic began to sink in. I looked around the familiar room, with its white walls and dorm-like beds, and wondered what the odds were that I would make it out of this room alive. I took a deep breath and looked up, hoping that my assumption about this room was wrong. I groaned when I saw the long, thin pipe that crossed from one side of the room to the other above the bed I was sitting on. 

“Shit,” I mumbled to myself. The door was closed, and although I knew better, I walked over and tried to open it. Of course, it wasn’t budging and there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I was going to bust it open. I leaned my head against the cool metal door and sighed. The only good thing about the situation was that at least Sam and Dean were somewhere in the building. “Sam! Dean!” I shouted as I banged on the door. Nothing but silence greeted me. One of the very things I loved about this building was probably going to be the thing that kept them from hearing me; the size. Then, while I pondered my current predicament, I felt the sudden drop in temperature that I always dreaded. I took a deep breath then slowly breathed out, disappointed when I saw my breath on the air. “Son of a bitch.” I turned in time to see two large men flicker in and out of existence before finally becoming solid enough to actually see them. I didn’t have to know who they were to connect it; they were the two men that had murdered the deaf and mute man with the bed.

Of course, my bag was still downstairs next to the desk I had been sitting at. I looked around the room frantically in hopes that there was something iron lying within reach, but didn’t see anything. The two men moved closer and closer, each one flickering subtly as they approached. They were huge men, and I could only imagine the fear that the poor man they killed felt as they ganged up on him. “I am not in the mood for this today, okay?” I grumbled. I looked over to my right and saw a small pipe sticking out of the wall. I had no way of knowing if it had any amount of iron, but it was the closest thing to a shot I had. I casually made my way backwards to the opposite side of the room as I kept my eye on the two men, hoping that they would at least wait until I had a chance to defend myself. Just as I reached the wall, one of the men disappeared and I felt a coldness pass through my chest. “Not good,” I thought to myself as I turned and found myself staring up at the larger of the two men. Before I had a chance to say or do anything, I felt my feet leave the ground as I was flung across the room and against a small table.

The table scraped loudly across the floor and the breath was knocked out of me as I slid to the floor. I rolled to my hands and knees and out of the corner of my eye saw the chair that went with the table…and it was metal. “Please, God, if you’re listening, give me a little win here, huh?” I thought as I wrapped my hands around the two front legs and swung as hard as I could as I stood up. The chair swept through the closest of the two ghosts and he flickered out of existence. “Take that, you murdering son of a bitch!” I yelled, momentarily distracted by my brief win. I looked over to where the other ghost had been to see that it had disappeared. “Shit.” I backed up against the wall in hopes that maybe that would cut down on any surprises. “Dean! Sam! Beth! A little help here, huh? Sam!!” Both ghosts popped back at the same time and I swung again. 

This time, they disappeared before the chair even touched them. “What the hell?” I moved back to the door, the chair still in my hand, and tried to open the door again. It was still shut tight and I sighed. The chill had disappeared from the room, so I flipped the chair around and sat on it. I realized this wasn’t the best plan, but I honestly didn’t know what else to do. I looked around the room and noticed a window I hadn’t seen before. It was small, and I was on the second floor, but it was still an option. Despite it having bars over it, they were pretty rusty at this point. I stood up, fully intending on taking the chair and smashing it into the window, but before I could do it, I was picked up and thrown down on one of the beds.

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?!” I struggled against my invisible bonds as the two ghosts reappeared, one on each side of me and both of them smiling dangerously at me. For the first time, I noticed their blood spattered pajamas, and the blood on their hands and splashed across their faces. Fresh fear coursed through me and I struggled harder. “No, no, no, no no…” I chanted like it was going to help me, like it was going to stop them from doing what they were inevitably going to do. “SAM!” I screamed, so loud that it felt like my throat was on fire. “SA-” My voice was cut off as something wrapped around it and I felt my body start to lift off the bed. My hands flew to my throat, but, of course, there was nothing there for me to actually grab. The lower half of my body finally left the bed and my lungs began to burn as my air was cut off. 

Just as my vision began to darken at the edges and I was about to lose consciousness, I was dropped back onto the hard mattress. I gasped, taking in lungfuls of air as spots danced across my field of vision. “SAM! DE-” Before I could finish my cry for help, I was yanked up again, much faster and harder than the first time. I choked, and although struggling was making it worse, my panic had taken over and I was desperately kicking in an attempt to reach the bed with at least my toes. I hung there for a moment, both ghosts staring at me with their bloodthirsty smiles, and I realized that if someone didn’t show up soon, they’d move on to the next part of their little game. I dropped again, and this time I couldn’t even attempt to scream for Sam and Dean. The only sound that came out was a choked sob as I struggled to breathe. I was lifted again, but this time, the fight in me was gone.

“Sam…” It came out just barely as a whisper, and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Out of all the ways I thought I would die, I honestly never thought it would be here, or like this. It was fitting that the last thing I saw as my vision went black and my eyelids slipped closed was Sam’s face, his wide smile showing off his deep dimples and his beautiful hazel eyes.

* * *

Sam and Beth ran into the office just as Dean sat up where he was in the floor, rubbing the back of his head. “What the hell happened, Dean?” Sam demanded as he slid to a stop.

Dean glared up at Sam, “Well, Sam, right before I got my bell rang, I checked with the ghosts to see what their plans were. Surprise! They didn’t tell me.” Beth held her hand out and Dean grabbed it, groaning as he stood up.

“Didja see anything, though? Hear anything?” Beth asked and Dean’s expression softened as he looked at her.

“No, nothing. We were sitting here and Y/N was looking at the computer. I vaguely recall her saying she thought she might have found something, and that’s it.”

Sam walked around the desk and sat down at the computer, “Let’s see what she found, maybe it’ll point us to where she is.” He clicked through a couple of files that Y/N had opened and his brows knit together has he read. He flipped open the file he’d brought downstairs with him and shuffled through the papers, then looked back to the computer, his eyes narrowed. “Okay, so get this. The two guys that committed the murder on the third floor were named Jack and Joseph Sizemore. They were twins that had been committed because they’d murdered their mother and father in their sleep. They claimed that ‘the devil told them to do it’ and that the parents were abusive and deserved to be punished. Normally, they would have been sent to the state prison, but because of their supposed hallucinations, they were sent here. The problem was that, despite the incredible violence towards their parents, they were put in the dormitory rather than separated in solitary confinement because it was overcrowded and they hadn’t been violent towards anyone else.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Because obviously they wouldn’t try to kill anyone else. What kind of dumbasses ran this place?”

Beth smacked Dean in the arm, “Watch your mouth. I know it doesn’t make a lick of sense now, but back then…they didn’t have much room to work with, Deano. They had to make some tough decisions, and they didn’t always work out too well. I’m not tryin’ to defend ‘em really, this place has its history and a lot of it isn’t great, but not everyone that worked here was bad.”

Dean jammed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat, “Sorry.” He looked back at Sam, “Anything else there, Sherlock?”

Sam shrugged, “Not a ton about them…it looks like they might have been buried based on computer records, but the physical file mentions that they were supposed to be cremated. Regardless, what was left of their family didn’t want to claim them, so whatever remains there were would still be on the grounds somewhere.”

Beth walked around and leaned over Sam’s shoulder to get a better look at the computer, “How’d they die?”

Sam cleared his throat and shifted in his chair as Beth pressed against his back. Dean caught his eye and frowned. “Umm…well, it looks like they died at the same time from…” Sam clicked on the coroner’s report. “Huh…brain cancer. They both had brain cancer, and died not too long after the murder took place. Weird, although it probably explains the voices in their heads.”

Dean sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms, “What about the guy they killed? What did they do with him?”

Sam changed tabs, “According to the cemetery records, an Aaron McTavish was buried in the cemetery behind the asylum because ‘He had no family to claim him, and he deserved a proper burial due to the nature of his death.’ Looks like he’s in plot 213.”

Beth looked up at Dean, worried, “Okay, so we know where at least one of the guys were buried…we gotta find the other two…but how do we figure out where Y/N is? How do we even know she’s still in the building?”

A muffled yell interrupted whatever it was that Dean was about to say. Sam’s head snapped up from looking at the computer screen, “That was Y/N.” He shoved backwards and Beth nearly hit the floor. He looked at her sheepishly, “Sorry.” He ran through the office door and paused at the bottom of the staircase, “Where did it come from?”

“SAM!” This time, the shout was much louder and Sam felt his stomach drop.

Beth paled as she looked over at Sam, “I know where she is. We have to go. Now.” Beth took off, leaving the two Winchesters staring blankly for a moment as her footsteps echoed through the first floor.

“SAM!” The second shout made Sam unfreeze and he ran after Beth, Dean immediately behind him. They caught up with Beth at the third floor landing just as she threw the door open and raced down the hall.

“She’s in the murder room!” Beth slid to a stop in front of the closed door and began to yank on it, “It’s stuck!”

Sam grabbed the handle and began pulling on it, “Y/N! We’re here! Y/N!” Nothing but silence answered him, and his heart jumped in his throat. “Dean, help!” They both squared up with the door and ran at it, their shoulders crashing into it with resounding thud. The door didn’t budge and they lined up again. Before they could move, the door flew open and slammed into the wall. Beth ran into the room first to find Y/N lying motionless on the bed. A bruise had already begun to form around her throat and Beth gasped.

“Is she breathing? Oh dear Lord baby Jesus, please don’t be dead.” Beth sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed Y/N’s hands, “Sweetie, c’mon now, wake up. You can’t let some good for nothin’ ghost kill ya, alright? Y/N, honey, c’mon. It’s not funny, you wake up right now!”

Dean took a step forward, “Beth, calm down, I know this is scary-”

Beth whipped around and glared at Dean, “If you even try to finish that sentence, you will have more to worry about than some brain-addled ghost. You hear me, Dean Winchester? It will not end well for you.” Dean threw his hands up and took a step back, and had circumstances been different, Sam would have made fun of him. Instead, he stood silently, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as he tried to keep from pushing Beth out of the way. Beth looked back at Y/N and her gaze softened. She bent over her, her lips right next to Y/N’s ear and whispered, “Sweetheart, you gotta wake up. There’s a fella that would like to talk to you about some things I think, and you can’t just let that go unfinished. You’ll haunt our asses for the rest of our lives, and I for one do not have the time for that. You hear me? You will not haunt me, and you will not leave that boy heartbroken.” She sat back up and watched Y/N as she chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

Suddenly, Y/N’s eyes flew open and she gasped, her breaths coming in deep, rattling pulls. She coughed, and Beth laughed as she wiped away the tears that had rolled down her cheeks. She smoothed Y/N’s hair from her face and smiled, “That’s my girl. I knew that’d do the trick. What in Heaven’s name happened in here?”

Y/N stared at Beth for a moment as she tried to gather her bearings, “You’re not gonna believe me when I tell you.” Her voice was raspy, but Sam breathed a sigh of relief when he heard it.

Dean walked over to the bed and gently picked Y/N up, “Sweetheart, I think you know better than that by now, but how about we finish up this conversation somewhere else, huh? I’m not staying in here any longer than I have to.” Sam frowned as he watched Dean walk out of the room with Y/N cradled to his chest, and Beth elbowed him in the ribs.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were the one she was yellin’ for to help her. If that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is. You better talk to her when this is all said and done, darlin’. You’d be a fool not to.” Beth walked out of the room, and Sam followed slowly behind her, her words echoing in his head.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group finds out why the brothers are still at the asylum, information they all could have gone without. The reader and Beth fight briefly in the basement, and when Dean storms off too, the reader thinks maybe she shouldn't have come back. When she finds Sam, they both realize the truth of what's going on.

I sat against the wall, my hand resting gently on the bruise that circled my throat. I could feel Sam as he stared at me. We hadn’t spoken a word to each other since coming downstairs, but I could tell that he was watching every move I made. Dean ran a hand over his tired face and sighed.

“One more time, Y/N. What the hell happened up there?”

I looked at Beth and she smiled, a tiny bit of encouragement in an otherwise stifling situation. “I don’t remember much… One minute I was hanging from that pipe and I couldn’t yell for anyone, I couldn’t breathe, and then suddenly a third person appeared. Well…not a person, I guess. Another ghost…and the other two just vanished. It was like the third ghost had scared them off or something.”

Beth gasped, “I know who it was. Y/N, was he bloody?”

I shrugged, “I mean, I guess, yea.”

“It was Aaron McTavish! It makes sense! The two that attacked Y/N were obviously the twins, so it stands to reason that the one that saved her was the one they viciously murdered. Right?”

Dean raised his eyebrows, obviously impressed by Beth’s observation skills, “That’s a good point. So we’ve got the twins and McTavish, and we know that McTavish was buried in the asylum’s cemetery. Do we know where the twins were buried?”

I shook my head, “I never found anything. As far as I know, they were cremated, but something has to be keeping them here.”

Dean clapped his hands together, “Alright, that means we research some more.”

“Maybe we should stick together this time,” Sam mumbled, and Dean frowned.

“Listen, it’s not my fault Y/N got taken, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

Sam glared at Dean, “Well, you definitely didn’t help. Unless, of course, letting yourself be knocked unconscious while they tortured her was just part of your plan.”

“Alright, asshole-”

“Stop!” I didn’t quite have it in me to yell, but I was loud enough that it stopped both Winchesters before they could really go at each other’s throats. “It isn’t anyone’s fault. We’ve all been there, and it just happened to be my turn to get my ass kicked.” I looked at Beth and she rolled her eyes; leave it to her to fully demonstrate how I felt without having to speak. “I think the records we need are in this room, let’s just look in here and, if they aren’t, we’ll go upstairs.” I stood and gingerly made my way to the computer. I pulled the extra chair over and sat next to Dean, who barely glanced at me from the corner of his eye before going back to scrolling through records.

“Dean,” I said softly, ignoring Sam and Beth as they walked past us and into the back room. “Dean, look at me.” He continued to scroll, and I gently reached out and put my hand over his. “Please, look at me.” He slowly turned, and the guilt in his eyes was almost too much. “It wasn’t your fault.”

His eyes traveled to my throat and he frowned, his eyes narrowed as he shook his head, “It is. I’m supposed to keep you safe, and I failed. You trusted me to do that.”

I sighed, “Dean, you saved me. You and Sam…I don’t expect anything from either of you. If anything, I owe you. I owe you more than I could ever repay. This wasn’t your fault. You know whose fault it was? Those asshole ghosts that got by with murder when they were alive. And now we are going to find ‘em, and gank ‘em, and they’re not going to hurt anyone else. We’re gonna kick their Casper asses.”

Dean chuckled and put his free hand over mine, “You’ve got a way with words, kid.”

I winked at him, “I learned from the best.”

We sat in silence for a moment, and I still couldn’t help but feel like Dean didn’t truly understand how much he meant to me. I tucked my finger under his chin and made him look at me. He still looked sad, and I sighed. “You are my best friend and my brother. There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you safe, understand? That’s what family does. Don’t you dare keep blaming yourself for this, okay? Eventually, I’ll be the reason your ass gets kicked, and then we’ll be even.” He laughed again, and this time it seemed much more genuine.

He leaned over and kissed my forehead, “You’re something else, you know that?”

I nod, “I’ve got an idea.” The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted our chick flick moment, and I turned around to see Sam watching the two of us.

“I think we found something,” he mumbled, not quite making eye contact with me.

“Let’s take a look!” Dean jumped up and followed Sam into the back room, and I trudged after them. I was tired, and whatever was going on between Sam and I was also exhausting. This trip home had become much more difficult than I could have ever anticipated.

Beth waved a folder at me excitedly as I made it to the back room, “We found something! It’s the craziest thing, and it’ll be a miracle if we can actually find it, but apparently the doctors here took a little souvenir from the twins.”

I narrowed my eyes, “What do you mean… _a little souvenir_?”

Sam frowned, “You’re not going to want to know.”

“What did they take?” I asked again, sure that Sam was right but needing to know anyway.

Beth tossed me the folder, “They took their brains and pickled ‘em like grandma’s best cucumbers. Apparently they thought they could learn from them. Instead, they were put in the basement for storage.”

I read through the paperwork and, sure enough, there was a listing for ‘ _Two brains, belonging to identical twins. Thought to be psychopaths with severe emotional disturbance_ ’. “This place has a basement?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “She just told you that these…’doctors’,” -he air quoted in irritation- “took these dudes’ brains and _pickled them like cucumbers_ , and you’re concerned because you didn’t know this place had a basement?”

I shrugged, “I mean, I’ve seen stranger things than brains in a jar. I’ve been to this building more times than I can count, it just seems like something I’d know about.”

Dean sighed, “Well, I guess we should get this over with. Beth,” he held his arm out, “would you care to lead the way to what could possibly be our end in a moldy, dark basement of horrors?”

Beth curtseyed and looped her arm through his, “Why Dean, I thought you’d never ask.” They took off without another word, leaving Sam and I behind.

I could feel Sam staring at me, and though I shouldn’t have let it get to me, I was tired and done. I turned to face him, a little more forcefully than necessary, “What is it, Sam? Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

He jumped slightly at my tone, “Like what?”

I rolled my eyes, “You know like what. You’ve been looking at me like I kicked your dog since Bear Town. You take off with Beth before anyone can even volunteer to split up, and then you won’t quit staring at me while we’re talking about pickled brains. So, what? What is it? Because I am tired and sore and I just want things to not be weird.”

“Nothing is weird-” he started.

I held my hand up to stop him, “Nope. This is what I think, and you can chew on this while we look for disgusting jars full of brains and get back to me later. I think that what I said at Bear Town bothered you. It bothered you because you thought when I said you both meant the world to me, I meant it in the same way for both of you, and it hurt your feelings.” I sighed and reached out for his hands. He let me intertwine my fingers with his as I continued, “But that’s not what I meant. Does Dean means the world to me? Yes. Do I love him? Absolutely, he’s my best friend. But do I _love_ him? No. I love _you_ , you big idiot.”

I dropped his hands and began to follow Dean and Beth to the basement, then turned to look at him over my shoulder, “Now come on, before they forget what they’re supposed to be looking for and start investigating each other.”

I started walking again without waiting for a response. The ball was in his court now and, until he decided what he was going to do, there were some asshole ghosts to gank. 

* * *

Beth raised an eyebrow at me as Sam and I emerged from the stairwell going into the basement and I shook my head. Now was not the time to discuss my love life, or lack of one.

“Well, here we are. Watch your step, the gophers like to dig their tunnels. It’s one of the reasons the tour doesn’t come down here. Also, there’s a ton of haunted-” Beth was interrupted by a series of obscenities exiting Dean at a much higher pitch than normal.

“What the hell was that, Dean?”

He looked up, clearly embarrassed, “Did you say they kept haunted house stuff down here?” Beth nodded and Dean gave her a tight lipped smile, “That explains a lot, then. Don’t…uh…don’t worry about it.” He continued his exploration of the basement, but purposely avoided the corner he’d previously been searching in.

“What’s in that corner, Beth?” Curiosity was getting the better of me; Dean wasn’t scared of anything, and I decided that having that little bit of information might come in handy.

She shrugged, “Last I saw, it was a bunch of dolls from the doll room. Coupl’a life sized ones too, I think.” I smirked; that information would come in handy later.

“Alright, so any idea where these brains might be? What all is down here, anyway?” I asked as I pushed things around on a shelf. “Where would you keep a couple of jars filled with brains?”

Beth visibly gagged, “I don’t even want to think about it. Ugh. How can you be so…so cavalier about this?”

“I’m a hunter, Beth. This is small stuff compared to some of the things I’ve seen. You get used to it.”

“You need a better day job,” she scoffed, “you’ve become totally desensitized to anything.” She picked up what looked an old medical bag and scrunched her nose at the dust that came off of it, “Except for your lovey dovey feelings for Sam. I suppose those aren’t desensitized.”

“Ugh, just leave it alone. I told him, okay? It’s up to him now, so just…drop it.”

Beth stopped abruptly and grabbed my arm, “You told him? And you weren’t going to inform me of this? How did you do it? What’d he say?”

I sighed. She wasn’t going to let this go until I gave her details. “I _might_ have called him a big idiot. And I _might_ not have really given him a chance to answer. We have more pressing matters than talking about our feelings, Beth.”

“He didn’t even answer you? And wait, you called him an idiot, that’s not exactly the best way-”

I yanked my arm out of her grasp. “Stop it,” I hissed, “that is enough. We’ve got to take care of things here, or more people are going to die. It doesn’t matter if he feels the same way as I do, what matters is that we take care of this, and then I go home.”

Beth took a step back, hurt clouding her features, “Home? You _are_ home, Y/N. This is your home.”

I shook my head, “No, it isn’t. It hasn’t been for a long time. My home is with them now. I’ve made my peace with that, maybe you should, too.”

She glared at me, her mouth open as if she was going say something back, but then turned and stormed off.

“Beth! Wait, I’m sorry!” She flipped me off without turning around and disappeared. “Dammit!” I shoved at the shelf I was standing next to and it rattled loudly, causing Dean to make his way over.

“Everything okay?” he asked as he steadied the shelf to keep it from toppling over.

I shook my head, “No, it’s not. I’m ready to take care of this and go home. I guess you haven’t found anything yet?”

“Nope, but Sam is still looking. Are we sure they’re in the basement?”

“I don’t know, Dean. You know just as much as I do, you were in the room when we talked about it. I mean, this place is old. It’s been years since anyone even looked for that stuff, and they primarily use this basement for storage. Not to mention all the animals that I’m sure come in here. So I don’t know, man.”  I removed the lid from one of the boxes and sifted through it to avoid looking Dean in the face. I could feel him glaring at me.

“You know what, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Sam, but you need to get your shit together. Both of you. This trip has been the biggest bunch of bullshit-”

I slammed the lid back down on the box and spun around to face Dean, “Not you, too. Sam and I have nothing to do with this. I should have known coming back here was a mistake. Maybe I should have just done it alone.”

“Yea, maybe you should have, Y/N.” Dean’s voice raised as he threw his arms out, “I love you, I do, but I’m getting sick of the attitude. Finish looking on your own.” He stormed off, and for the second time I watched as one of my best friends disappeared into the darkness.

“I am really nailing this whole friendship thing,” I muttered to myself as I walked towards where I saw Sam searching, his flashlight the only source of light I could see.

“Find anything?” I asked, my hopes not high as I realized just how big the basement was.

“Nah, you?” I shook my head. He put down the stack of folders he’d found and turned to look in the opposite direction. “This basement is giant. I wonder if Dean and Beth have found anything.”

“Doubtful, unless they teamed up after we got into it.”

Sam turned to look at me, his brows furrowed, “What do you mean, after you got into it?”

“Sam, I really don’t want to get into this-”

“Y/N, what exactly did you mean by that? Did you fight with Beth and Dean?” His flashlight was in my eyes, and I squinted at him in frustration.

“Yea, I did. First Beth, and then Dean came over and I snapped at him. They both took it really well, lemme tell you.” Sam swung the flashlight around the room, its beam bouncing off of metal shelving and glass bottles, but there was no sign of Beth or Dean.

“Beth and Dean were together the whole time…I saw them go through that door over there like five minutes ago,” Sam said softly.

A chill went through me, and I shook my head, “No, it’s impossible. I just talked to both of them. Dean was scared of the dolls from the haunted house, and he wandered off and left Beth and I alone…” I trailed off when I realized that, though there were things Dean didn’t like, he never ever screamed like he did earlier…at least, not unless ghost sickness was involved. I looked at Sam with wide eyes, “I wasn’t talking to Beth _or_ Dean…was I?”

Before Sam could answer, a scream sounded through the dark basement. A scream that sounded very much like Beth.

_Shit._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up in an unfortunate place, and Beth has to find a way to get him out. Sam and the reader are still a little short with each other, but together finally come up with a plan to find the twins' remains.

Dean woke up slowly and groaned as he shifted his head on the hard surface he was laying on. “What the hell…?” he mumbled to himself as he tried to sit up. Rough rope dug into his arms and around his chest, and he swore again. From his vantage point, all he could see were peeling walls and filthy, cracked windows.

“Beth? Where are you?” Silence greeted him, and he rolled his eyes as he began wiggling against the rope, hoping to loosen enough to slip out of it. “Seriously, you’re going to choose this very moment to be quiet? C’mon, say something so I know where you are.” A moan sounded from the other side of the room, and he breathed a sigh of relief; at least she was alive. “That’s right, sweetheart, wakey wakey, eggs and bakey. Are you tied up, too?” There was a mumbled response and then silence fell again. “Beth?” 

“I said, first of all, keep your comments to yourself about how much I talk. Two, yes, I’m tied to a pipe.”

Dean chuckled, “Aww, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just making sure you were alive and well, gotta rile you up somehow.” He grunted as he strained against the rope, which didn’t seem to want to loosen up. “Shit…how tight is that rope? Mine isn’t coming loose.”

“It’s pretty damn tight.” She groaned, and Dean could hear a shuffling sound as she tried to work free of the rope, “What the hell happened? My head feels like I went to one of Billy Johnson’s keggers and drank enough jungle juice to go home with his brother.”

Dean snorted, “I don’t know what the hell that means, Beth.”

“It’s not good, Dean. It’s not good.” The shuffling stopped, and Beth sighed, “This is ridiculous. This is _not_ how I pictured my day going. I mean, I figured after everything I’ve heard about you and Sam, we’d have this solved in a hurry and I’d be halfway to sloshed with at least one Winchester by now. Instead, I’m trussed up tighter than a hog headin’ to the slaughterhouse, and it’s not even the good kind.” She sighed, “That wasn’t really the best turn of phrase though, was it?”  

“No, not really.” A loud crash from behind Dean startled him, and he pulled tighter against the ropes. “What was that? Can you see anything?”

“I can’t see anything, Dean. It’s too dark…ah shit.”

Dean stopped struggling, “What? Ah shit what?”

“We’re in the morgue. …What are you lying on?”

“I don’t freaking know!” He lifted his head as high as it would go and looked around. “Oh, for _fuck’s sake_.” Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he could see what he was lying on, and he had the sudden feeling that it wasn’t going to end well. He was secured to a metal slab that had been pulled out from one of the cold storage units. “Do these cold storage things actually function? Like, do they move or close or…you know, turn on?”

“…I mean, they close, but there isn’t electricity in this part of the building, so you should be fine.”

“Well, that’s good to know-” Dean was interrupted by the metal slab slamming back into the cold storage unit and the door as it shut with a bone rattling clang. “Beth! DAMMIT!” The container was pitch black, but Dean still squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the feeling of its walls closing in on him. “Beth!” Panic was beginning to set in, and all he could think about was when he’d been buried, digging through the dirt as he tried to escape his flimsy, wooden prison. “BETH!”

“I’m okay! I’m almost loose! Hang on, Dean!” He heard a cheer as Beth finally broke free of her restraints and hurried footsteps as she ran to where he was. The door rattled, but stayed shut. “Son of a bitch! It’s stuck. Let me…just, hold on, okay?”

“Like I have much choice,” he mumbled to himself. The hair on his arms stood up, and he groaned. “You need to hurry, I think they’re coming back,” he shouted, grimacing as his voice bounced off the rusted metal.

“Hold your damn horses, Winchester! I will be right there. Good Lord, it’s not like I came prepared to rescue the damsel in distress.”

“Excuse me-”

“Awwe, honey, don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m just lookin’ for something heavy…ah ha! This will work!” Dean heard the scrape of metal against concrete and wondered what she was getting ready to do. “Now, I need you to close your eyes, sweet cheeks, and turn your head so I don’t mess up that pretty face of yours. Okay?”

“What are you getting ready to do?”

“Don’t worry about that, just do what I told ya.”

The cold storage unit abruptly shook, the sound of metal on metal grating, and Dean cringed, his eardrums throbbing at the ear splitting vibrations. “Jesus, Beth! What was that?!”

“I’m trying to break this door open! That hurt like a mother-” She was abruptly cut off, and the silence was replaced by a loud crash and a sharp cry.

“Hey! What happened? Are you okay?!” Silence was his only answer, and Dean shivered as the temperature dropped even more. “Shit, shit, shit…Beth!” Just as he was about to shove himself towards the door, it shook again and this time popped open with a creaking groan. Dean looked up to see Beth, blood dripping down the side of her face and her shirt ripped, holding a giant pipe and breathing heavily.

“Asshole didn’t realize this was iron.” She tossed the pipe down and pulled the metal slab out, yanking at the knots and freeing Dean’s hands. He quickly slipped the rope off and jumped down from the gurney, immediately checking the still freely bleeding wound on Beth’s temple.

“He tossed you around pretty good, huh?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded bandana and pressed it against her head.

“You could say that,” she said between clenched teeth, “but I got him right in the ghost nards. Think they can feel that like people do?”

Dean laughed, “I’m not sure, never stopped to think about it.” He dropped his hand and stared at Beth, “Where have you been hiding this whole time, anyway? You’d make a great hunter.”

She shrugged, “Someone’s gotta keep this place in check. You think these are the only ghosts around? Anyway, ya’ll live in some sort of weird, flat hellscape. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“Aw, come on, it’s not that bad. We’ve got mountains. Come out to visit us sometime, I’ll show you around.”

“You’ve got _hills_. But maybe I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I’ve never been out west before. Could be fun.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun.” Dean took a step closer to her, and Beth put her palm against his chest, stopping him.

“Simmer down, handsome. I fully intend on getting so close to you that Jesus himself would blush, but right now we’ve got bigger issues on our hands.” She bent down and picked up the pipe and smacked it against her other hand. “Now what?”

Dean reached over and grabbed another loose pipe and swung it up onto his shoulder, “We find those brains and send those bastards to Purgatory.”

* * *

Our steps echoed in the huge, empty space as we ran across the basement towards the source of the scream. “Since when are they impersonating _people_?” I yelled, my heart beating in my ears so loudly I could hardly hear myself. “Did you know ghosts could do that?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve not seen it. Not exactly something I was expecting, but why not make this even more difficult?” Sam slid to a stop and flashed his light into the dark, open doorway in front of us. “How could you not tell they weren’t… _them_?”

I glared at him, then reached over and pinched him hard on the arm. He swore and pulled his arm away, rubbing at the spot I’d just grabbed, “What the hell was that for?!”

“Just making sure it was actually you,” I spat back, looking back to where the beam of light was bouncing around haphazardly. “We have to find those brains, Sam. If we don’t find them, who knows what those two will do to Dean and Beth.”

“And how do you suggest we do that? This basement is huge, Y/N. And we _aren’t_ splitting up, so you better come up with something else.”

I rolled my eyes, and for the first time since I had known him wished I was anywhere but here with Sam. I chewed on my lip as I thought. Where would they store something they needed later safely, something important like specimens, but still be easily accessible?  “Wait…which way is north?”

Sam looked at me, eyebrow raised, “What?”

“Which way is north? Where is the front of the building?”

Sam looked around, then pointed back in the direction we’d just come from, “The north side of the property would be that way. Why?”

“Which means that this door-” I gestured toward the one we were just looking through- “would be going towards the south side of the building, right?”

“Yes…”

“The morgue is behind the asylum, and I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think there’s a back entrance to this basement, or at least a tunnel from the morgue to here so that they could move the bodies discreetly. Would it not stand to reason that maybe the stuff they kept in storage would at least be close to the morgue? What point would there have been in carrying it all the way across the building?”

Sam smiled, and I felt a quick flash of relief. I had never argued with Sam, and right now wasn’t the best time to start.

“Good idea.” Another cry echoed through the basement, followed by a crash and Dean’s muffled voice yelling for Beth. Sam made a move towards the noise, but I stopped him.

“We can’t help them if we get trapped, too. We’ve got to find those brains, Sam. It’s the only way to stop this. They’ll be fine.” Sam frowned, and I squeezed his arm, “I _promise_ , I will not let anything happen to them.”

He sighed, “Yea…okay. Where do you suggest we look?”

I grabbed his flashlight and pointed it into the darkness ahead of us. “I have an idea…but you aren’t going to like it.”


End file.
